


Better than Diamonds

by Arithanas



Series: A Huckleberry Above My Persimmon [4]
Category: Leverage
Genre: Developing Relationship, Drabble Collection, M/M, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-22 10:43:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22315021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arithanas/pseuds/Arithanas
Summary: Eliot Spencer's how did I spend my European vacation.Drabble collection about the fluffy moments Eliot spent with Mr. Quinn between Christmas and New Year.
Relationships: Mr. Quinn/Eliot Spencer
Series: A Huckleberry Above My Persimmon [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607185
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	Better than Diamonds

“I don't travel with luggage,” Eliot explained as he sat shotgun in Quinn’s car.

The life of a tumbleweed, an indefinite present without a past or a future, was second nature by now. Sterile and boring hotel rooms, quick runs to get cheap soap and clean underwear... Eliot never thought of packing luggage when Quinn issued his invitation to spend Christmas in Europe; long travel was a hassle enough with his winter jacket and heavy boots.

Quinn nodded, merged into traffic and chuckled goodnaturedly.

“If you wanted to have a drawer in my house, you only needed to ask, buddy!” 

┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊

It was a short walk to Vyšehrad Castle. Singing breeze, water lapping Vltava’s riverbank and Quinn’s silence. Eliot looked at the dark spires scratching the cold blue sky...

Warmth surprised him when Quinn slid his hand into Eliot’s. Soft-touch, no pressure. A harried look swept the quay and his heart raced inside Eliot’s chest.

Even steps led to even heartbeats, Eliot pressed Quinn’s fingers, hoping…

The word came from nowhere. Eliot didn’t need to understand; an insult. Quinn let go of Eliot’s hand. 

That hurt. 

Quinn barked something before putting his arm around Eliot’s shoulders.

Eliot basked in warm safety…

┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊

Steel cuffs nip at Eliot's wrists as they click softly closed, wound around the bar at the foot of Quinn’s bed. Breath torn from the depths of his chest; almost quivering on top of dark silk.

Hands roaming Eliot’s skin, tracing each scar…

“God, you are beautiful…” Quinn whispered, his hand roaming downwards. 

Warm touch on shivering skin; those words rattled inside the empty box where Eliot stored compliments. Eliot mumbled, feeling the taut arch of his back against his voluntary vulnerability.

Quinn’s mouth followed the trail blazed by his hands. Eliot groaned, twisted and surrended to the sweet torture…

┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊

Horror pierced the darkness. 

Sadness oozed from each of the thousand wounds left behind by a life of violence, blood and hurt. A bullet ricocheted behind him, a cloud of sand burst over his back, an empty helmet rocked to and fro between his boots.

The familiar ache against his shoulder, death recoiling against his bones.

Kids' eyes, judging his soul; finger on the trigger, held back only by the last shred of his humanity, dancing on the last tatter of his sanity...

Cries in the dark; there’s no way out.

“You’re safe,” Quinn whispered, holding Eliot tight. “I’m here.”

┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊

Tools properly stored, the pole was fixed against the roof and Quinn eagerly climbed up it.

Eliot smiled and mopped the sweat off his brow. Almost adoring, Eliot knelt and watched Quinn practicing a hold, the wide panorama of sleeping Prague behind him. Beauty, strength, grace… all rolled into one and smiling back at him. 

Quinn's stretched hand beckoned, so Eliot held his out. That touch, damnation and salvation, sent shivers down Eliot’s spine.

Quinn was falling, falling…

Quinn fell down straight into Eliot’s arms with a small, startled cry. 

Later, they laughed: Expensive suits and pole dancing shouldn’t mix.

┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊

The train was rocking softly and the day was breaking. Eliot stifled a yawn against his fist. Quinn had fallen asleep just a quarter of an hour ago, holding his new treasure between his cupped hands.

In the window's reflection, Eliot smiled when Quinn’s head fell against his shoulder. Through layers and layers of wool, satin, and cotton a strip of the flesh of Quinn’s neck showed. Eliot, carefully, raised his arm and pulled Quinn’s coat closer. 

The reflection on the glass was dimmer now, the day was coming fast, but Eliot could observe how care showed on his face. 

┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊

The flame was too high, the oil was too hot, the garlic peel was charring, Eliot let it all be.

Quinn cursed when a splatter of boiling grease nipped at his skin, but he didn’t turn to look at Eliot. Stubbornly, Quinn fished the blackened garlic from the pan; Eliot almost expecting him to stab the offending bit. Eliot was almost proud when Quinn harnessed his murderous nature.

“I've got this!” Quinn growled without turning his back.

“You do,” Eliot agreed and sipped his beer.

Dinner promised to be a disaster of epic proportions.

Eliot couldn’t wait to praise it.

┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊

Quinn snored as he turned around and Eliot smiled as he traced Quinn's cherubic profile with his fingertip. Quinn was cute asleep.

It was a difficult night. Eliot blamed the wine. Sleep had been taking its sweet time to come, but as long as the light pollution allowed it, he didn’t mind. 

The warm waft of Quinn’s peaceful sleep became a problem when Quinn cuddled closer. His breath tickled Eliot’s armpit and Eliot cringed.

No one ever got close enough to know how terribly ticklish Eliot really was.

Quinn breathed again; Eliot squirmed. There was no escape possible…

Another breath…

┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊

“Worst performance ever,” Quinn complained and rested his head against Eliot’s.

Eliot chuckled and snaked his free arm behind Quinn’s back. Hardison had edited Quinn’s video and sent it; Quinn groaned at the five-second mark.

“Fishing for compliments?”

Quinn turned his head and Eliot realized he was being measured; he ignored Quinn’s lingering gaze and enjoyed the show. Quinn’s performing outfit left little to the imagination, Eliot‘s flesh stirred when, on the screen, Quinn held himself parallel to the pole.

With a huff, Quinn lifted the blanket. Eliot almost protested, but Quinn found his target quickly.

Eliot’s phone fell down.

┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊

Annecy was charming. Not for the first time, Eliot wondered how Quinn knew of these places almost free of tourists. Eliot wandered about the channeled town with a half-drunk Quinn hanging from his arm. People around them didn’t mind.

Chilly, wet wind surrounded them; Snow was near.

Quinn, as was his wont, was mumbling Christmas carols and eating a chocolate _boule mousse_. Eliot didn’t know what had possessed him: he rested his head against Quinn’s shoulder. Quinn, amused, mumbled something in a drunken haze and kissed Eliot’s forehead.

“Stop it!” 

Quinn gave Eliot a chocolate kiss under the falling snow.

┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊

The server rushed to the kitchen with a wary look when Quinn asked her to tell the chef that Antun wanted to cash in his favor.

Weather in Kraków was horrible, but this restaurant inside a building courtyard was cozy. The tables were full. Enticing smells wafted from the kitchen; The promise of new flavors made Eliot’s stomach growl with appetite.

A tall, round, bearded man came out of the kitchen, pulled Quinn into a bear hug, and dragged them to a table in the kitchen. 

“My boyfriend,” Quinn introduced them.

Eliot nodded and held Quinn’s hand over the tablecloth.

┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊♥┊┊

“Summer,” Eliot mumbled and kicked the duffel bag that he was bringing back home. Some new clothes for himself, candies for Parker, some vintage nerdy stuff for Hardison. 

“Hmmm…?” 

Quinn’s eyes were glued to the boarding pass for his next flight. Passengers rushed by them. Airport was unusually busy. They were calling Eliot’s flight, he'd better get his message across.

“Summer,” Eliot insisted, picking up the bag. “My house.”

“I can clear my agenda,” Quinn agreed with his usual hint of irony. 

Eliot darted his hand up and gripped Quinn’s nape.

Quinn kissed Eliot; a shortage of caresses was coming.

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to S., who as always, was a terrific beta and partner in crime.


End file.
